


new found grace

by sugarbug



Series: fever dream high [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: HQSwiftWeek2020, M/M, Mention of vomit but no actual vomit, atsumu is stupid, because i sure as hell dont, but also kinda babie, do you think i know what im doing, side osasuna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26490103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarbug/pseuds/sugarbug
Summary: atsumu and his silly feelings
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Suna Rintarou
Series: fever dream high [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923241
Comments: 7
Kudos: 47





	new found grace

**Author's Note:**

> second installment in the fever dream high series, so read the first pt first for the Foundation .. for day 3 of taylor swift week, based off everything has changed :')  
> unedited yet again because i'm FERAL and a HEATHEN
> 
> ALSO i experiment with some tense switching in this, so if that aint your thang then . well, YA KNOW

_all i knew this morning when i woke_

_is i know something now_

_know something now i didn't before_

Atsumu tries to not think too hard about the fact that he’s never known a best friend outside of his brother. 

He’s not _jealous_ that Osamu instantly found a best friend in Rintarou. It’s just that…well, it is what it is.

They've all known each other since middle school, so the fact that Rin still tolerates him is something like a miracle because, if anything, Atsumu was even _more_ insufferable at 13 years old.

Atsumu isn’t sure why it pisses him off so much when he’s younger. All he knew was that Rintarou said things sometimes that _must_ have been insults because Osamu would stand there laughing, while Atsumu was still puzzling it out in his little middle-schooler brain.

He’s a bit smarter when they’re on their last big outing before the beginning of their junior year. A few of their teammates had planned a trip to the zoo as a way to say farewell to their summer break—and their break from routine practices. 

Atsumu was pretty sure it was just the upperclassmen’s attempt to flex their driving skills on everyone, but he wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t been to the zoo in years, and it was exciting to just get out of the house for a few hours.

Unfortunately, the excitement hadn’t lasted long.

“You look awful.” Rintarou had raised an eyebrow at Atsumu.

They were standing in front of a giraffe exhibit, and Atsumu would have made a snarky comment about how Rintarou fit right in if he wasn’t feeling so piss poor.

He’d made the foolish mistake of skipping breakfast _and_ forgetting to pack a water bottle, and the summer sun had sucked all the life out of him. He was pretty sure he’d ended up with a nasty burn on the back of his neck as well, and he suspected he was coming down with a fever.

“I could say the same about you,” Atsumu had tried to reply, but it came out more slurred than he’d hoped.

“Hey,” Osamu shuffled over, map spread out in his hands, “ready to go?”

“We’ll catch up to you guys,” Rintarou had replied.

“Okay,” Osamu said carefully. He glanced over Rintarou’s shoulder at Atsumu. “Is he gonna vomit?”

“Maybe.” Rintarou shrugged.

“Okay,” Osamu repeated. “Don’t get too far behind.”

“Just leave me alone to die,” Atsumu whined, draping his arms over the exhibit railing and resting his head on them.

“I wish I could,” Rintarou sighed. “Unfortunately, we kind of need you on the team.”

Atsumu winced at the kick to his ankles, lifting his head to glare at Rintarou.

“Come on. You’re dehydrated.”

Atsumu reluctantly allowed Rintarou to drag him over to a cluster of tables, gracelessly dropping down onto the bench in front of one. Rintarou left for a few minutes, only to return with some disappointing chicken tenders. He slapped a water bottle against the back of Atsumu’s neck.

“ _Ow?_ ”

“Sorry,” Rintarou said, but he didn’t sound very sorry.

“How’d ya know I didn’t eat yet today?”

“I’ve spent the night at your house enough times to know you usually eat a granola bar at most for breakfast.”

Rintarou leaned his cheek on his palm, watching as Atsumu miserably picked at the chicken tenders and downed most of the water.

“Still feel like shit,” Atsumu whined, planting his face on the table. The wrong move because the tabletop was sticky with old soda spills and greasy fingerprints.

“You have this bad habit,” Rintarou leaned over the table far enough to flick Atsumu’s forehead, “of neglecting to take care of, like, basic human needs.”

“What are ya, my mom?”

Atsumu lifted his head up from the table to level Rintarou with a proper glare. Unfortunately, with blotchy cheeks and the remnants of some other zoo-goer’s Pepsi stuck along his cheekbone, he was less than intimidating.

Rintarou only rolled his eyes, grabbing for a napkin and placing a hand on the top of Atsumu’s head while the other went to work wiping the soda goop off his face.

“Jeez, you really _are_ my mom,” Atsumu looked away, thankful that his face was already a few shades too red from the sun.

“You make it nearly impossible to tolerate you,” Rintarou replied before standing up and tossing the napkins and empty food cartons in a nearby trash can. “Come on. We gotta catch up to the others.”

_and all i've seen since 18 hours ago_

_is green eyes and freckles and your smile_

_in the back of my mind, making me feel like_

_i just wanna know you better_

Atsumu would pinpoint that day as the beginning of his descent into his Rintarou-inflicted turmoil.

From that point forward, he was constantly noticing the way Rintarou doted on others, even if Rintarou himself was oblivious to the fact that he had an instinctively nurturing way about him. Atsumu relished the times when it was directed towards him.

“You’ve been staying too late practicing on your own,” Rintarou says to him after school one day. They’re a few months into their junior year, and Atsumu is determined to take them to nationals in the spring.

They don’t actually have practice today. He just snagged the set of keys from their captain and is heading to the gym when Rintarou catches him.

“I—”

“You don’t have to,” Rintarou finishes for him. He waltzes over and tugs Atsumu’s practice bag off his shoulder.

“Been wondering why you were bailing on studying with me and Osamu. Figured you were just macking with that girl from our trig class, but should have known your perpetually single self would just be practicing extra.”

“First of all, fuck you,” Atsumu says, picking up his pace to catch up to Rintarou, who’s already heading towards the school gates. “Second of all, sounds like you’re _jealous_.”

“You wish,” Rintarou huffs, and his breath comes out in puffs, a result of the brisk autumn air.

He turns just a smidge towards Atsumu, the afternoon sun making his eyes go sage. All Atsumu hears is the _crunch, crunch, crunch_ of the crimson leaves underneath their sneakers.

 _Yeah, I do_ , Atsumu catches himself thinking.

_and all my walls stood tall, painted blue_

_and i'll take 'em down, take 'em down_

_and open up the door for you_

Nationals suck. They really, _really_ suck.

What possibly sucks even more is sitting in a bowling alley, trying his best not to let his emotions get the best of him. He wants to be home, smothering himself with a pillow. But instead, he’s trapped between a few of the other underclassmen, who have all but forgotten about their humiliating loss.

What sucks even _more_ is the thought of having it repeat a year from now, when _he’s_ captain. He thinks if he bites his tongue even harder, he’ll taste blood.

Luckily, he doesn’t get that far. A gentle tug on his sleeve pulls him out of the tsunami of thoughts taking place in his brain.

“Hey, step outside with me for a minute?”

Rintarou’s leaning over the back of his chair, and Atsumu has to crane his neck to get a good look at him. He gets a glimpse of the bright blue gum Rintarou is smacking between his teeth, and he’s standing up and following Rintarou outside before he can think twice about it.

It’s raining lightly, but Atsumu still leans against the damp wall of the building. He fidgets a bit for finally asking, “What’d ya drag me out here for?”

“You were starting to look like you’d end up injuring someone with a bowling ball on your next turn.”

Rin creeps closer, edging into Atsumu’s space and pressing his own back against the wall. Atsumu wants to say something smart, but Rintarou is near and a little too warm, so all Atsumu can manage is an unimpressed huff.

“You know they’ll come back to visit for games, right?”

Atsumu thinks about the mood tracking app his old therapist had encouraged him to put on his phone. He’s not sure which moods to log for today. His stomach is sick from anxiety, and now it’s twisting in a different way because Rintarou is close and smells faintly of the cherry slushie he’d been nursing the entire night. Atsumu wants to tell him that his habit of chewing on straws is _not_ very cute.

Instead, “It’s not about that.”

“Then what?”

Atsumu isn’t sure how Rintarou managed to become one of the few people around whom Atsumu could let his guard down. It’s kind of sick, and Atsumu is pretty sure Rintarou doesn’t even realize it.

“Do you think I’m gonna make a shitty captain?”

“Definitely.”

Atsumu scowls because, even though he _knows_ Rintarou is just fucking with him, it’s exactly what his mind has been telling him for the past two weeks.

He’s been dreaming of being captain for years, and now the opportunity is finally within reach. But he was not born with confidence—it was a practiced trait, and he’s _still_ practicing it every day.

He’s not sure he’s ready for this, but he can’t tell that to anyone.

He digs his heel into a hill of gravel piled up against the wall. It’s enough to distract him until Rintarou pipes up with a, “Not really,” and lands a nasty punch to Atsumu’s shoulder.

“No one cares about volleyball as much as you. It’s sort of unhealthy, actually.”

Atsumu takes a deep breath in. He’s right.

“You should probably see a doctor about it.”

Rintarou is an _ass_ , and Atsumu is so stupid for cracking a smile. 

He finally looks up, watching Rintarou and the way the ends of his hair begin to curl upward even more under the gentle drizzle. The neon blue light from the bowling alley’s sign dribbles over the bridge of his nose and across his cheeks.

“The juniors are totally gonna kick your ass when you’re captain though. That one squirrely kid who wants to be the starting libero? He’s kind of—”

Atsumu is more calculated than people think. Even when he’s reckless, he’s reckless with purpose.

This is not one of those times.

When Atsumu cups Rintarou’s face in one hand and presses their lips together, it’s just plain stupid.

But it’s also fucking awesome because Atsumu’s kind of been thinking about how this would feel for months. Atsumu was certain it’d feel something like a rollercoaster, but instead it feels as sappy as the Hallmark movies his mom always had playing on the weekends.

He thinks if he lets the kiss go longer than a few seconds, he might melt on the spot, so he pulls back. Rintarou is a little cross-eyed, and the gravity of the situation suddenly dawns on him.

“Sorry,” Atsumu says, lips pressed tight together in what he hopes passes as a Haha-Just-A-Friendly-Post-Kiss type of smile, “ya just looked kinda pretty.”

Rintarou still looks pretty shell-shocked, and the silence is suffocating, so Atsumu gives him a pat on the shoulder and heads back inside. He darts to the bathroom and splashes his face with water before he heads back over to their bowling lane.

He settles into his seat, ignoring the curious glance Osamu throws his way. Some of the freshmen nearby are acting up, and he can’t help getting involved, if only to put some distance between his mind and the erratic thumping in his chest.

Perhaps his efforts are futile though, because when Rintarou comes back in, cheeks colored a pretty shade of pink, the pounding of his heartbeat is deafening. 

_'cause all i know is we said, "hello"_

_and your eyes look like coming home_

_all i know is a simple name_

_everything has changed_

The next day, Atsumu catches up with Rintarou as they head to practice.

"Hey," he says, swearing when he almost trips up the stairs.

"Hey," Rintarou says back. It's careful and cautious, and Atsumu waits for something more. He has to say _something_ about last night.

But he doesn't. He just tugs his backpack straps higher and scrolls through his phone. Atsumu matches his pace, deciding he just needs to be patient. This is Rintarou after all—he’s ambitious, but he doesn’t move quite like Atsumu.

“Ya shoulda seen the comments my history teacher left on my essay,” Atsumu groans in an effort to fill the silence in the meantime. “It really wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“I find that doubtful,” Rintarou side-eyes him and pockets his phone.

“I’ll have ya know that my essays have gotten a lot better,” Atsumu picks up the pace and walks backwards so he can face Rintarou.

“Clearly your history teacher begs to differ,” Rintarou challenges, and any weirdness he had been holding on to seems to dissipate.

Still, he doesn’t bring up the night before. Atsumu thinks he can wait.

_come back and tell me why_

_i'm feeling like i've missed you all this time_

Atsumu spends the summer at a training camp. He tries to stay in touch with his limited friend group when he has a spare moment, but they are few and far between.

Coming home is fine, and he’s happy admitting that he missed the comfort of his own bed and the pleasant smells that filled the house each time his brother and mother are testing out a new recipe.

When he shows up for the first day of practice as a senior—as the team _captain_ —he feels something gooey building up in his chest. It’s squashed not long after when Rintarou avoids his gaze—the same way he ignored most of Atsumu’s texts over the summer.

Atsumu figured the stunt he’d pulled at the bowling alley months before clearly hadn’t gone over well, if Rintarou’s aversion to bringing it up in conversation was proof of anything. But now, he wonders if Rintarou’s decided he doesn’t want _anything_ to do with Atsumu.

The message is clear a few weeks later when Osamu pauses their game. Atsumu turns around to glare at Osamu, who’s sprawled across the couch, a puzzled expression on his face.

“What? Ya gonna be sick or somethin’?”

Osamu chews at the inside of his cheek before setting his controller down and stretching his arms out.

“Rintarou asked me if I wanna go out tomorrow night.”

Atsumu sets his own controller down.

“What’d ya say?”

“Yes?”

Atsumu isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but it isn’t good.

“So, what? You guys are jus’ gonna make me third wheel all the time now?”

“Don’t you already?” Osamu smirks, and that’s what tips Atsumu off.

Osamu doesn’t know anything about how Atsumu feels about Rintarou (which is _what_ exactly?). Osamu is a jackass, but he’s not heartless. That’s why he feels at ease enough to joke around. If he knew, he’d be tiptoeing around the situation far more.

“Well, good luck with all that. Rin’s kinda a freak.”

_and meet me there tonight_

_and let me know that it's not all in my mind_

Atsumu doesn’t _try_ to blow up on Rintarou the next time they have practice. It just so happens that he catches him alone after they’ve finished cleaning up and changing, and, well. Atsumu has never been an ace at handling his feelings.

He tries not to blame himself for leaving the room when Rintarou is mid-sentence, but he thinks it’s pretty cruel of Rintarou to just ask out Osamu without giving him some sort of warning.

He bypasses Osamu on the way out the gym doors, mumbling something about needing to pick something up for their coach on the way home. He doesn’t wait for a response from Osamu either, simply speed-walking until he’s blocks away from their school.

A few weeks later—four new dates later—Osamu prods him into talking about it.

“Rintarou said ya been kinda a dick to him lately.”

“What, he has to get his boyfriend to pick his battles for him?”

Atsumu is trying to figure out the requirements for a stupid college application when Osamu comes in and leans against the doorframe of his bedroom.

“Ya been ignoring the both of us,” Osamu comments. “Rintarou more though.”

Atsumu sighs.

“Look, it’s just kinda weird, okay? Wouldn’t it be weird for ya if I started dating one of our good friends. I mean, I’m used to it bein’ just us three, and now it’s…”

Osamu looks like he knows what Atsumu means, so Atsumu pauses the vague hand gestures he’d been trying to use to get his point across.

“It’s just different. Can ya just give me some time to get used to it?”

Osamu hums, disappearing from Atsumu’s doorway. Atsumu wonders if he said something out of line. He’d tried to be as civil as possible without being absolutely transparent about his feelings.

Osamu returns a few minutes later with his backpack and chucks a pack of fruit gummies at Atsumu before settling down on the floor.

“Weirdo,” Osamu says with a note of finality as he opens his laptop.

Atsumu sighs again, this time more out of relief.

They were okay. Everything would be okay. Eventually.

_all i know is you held the door_

_you'll be mine and i'll be yours_

Atsumu holds true to his promise. He interacts with Rintarou an appropriate amount during practice. He calls out sets and critiques his form when necessary, praising him for good blocks.

Outside of practice, he’ll catch Rintarou’s eyes occasionally in the hall and have to look away for fear of saying something stupid. When he stops by the house, Atsumu sets a timer on his phone for five minutes—holding some vapid conversation with Rintarou and Osamu before shuffling off to hunker down in his room alone.

It’s okay, Atsumu thinks. He can do this for a few months, and then he’ll leave for college, and Rintarou will just be his brother’s boyfriend and nothing more. 

It makes sense, the more Atsumu thinks about it. Rintarou has always been closer with Osamu, and they certainly fit the friends-to-lovers trope. It’s predictable, frankly, and Atsumu has always found peace in predictability.

So, when Osamu gets back from Christmas shopping, the announcement he has is less than predictable.

“Broke up with Rintarou.”

 _“What?”_ Atsumu shoots up from where he’d been reclining on the couch.

“Yeah,” Osamu runs a hand through his hair. “I think it was pretty mutual though.”

“I thought ya were really into him,” Atsumu frowns.

“I thought I was too,” Osamu agrees. “I think I was just into the idea of him. And I think he felt the same way about me.”

“Damn, that lasted all of, what? Two months?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Osamu walks over to swat at Atsumu’s head. “As if you have a track record of meaningful relationships.”

Atsumu blocks his attacks, ignoring the jitters he feels and instead peeking into the shopping bags Osamu’s holding.

“Whatever. What’d ya get me?”

_all i know is we said, "hello"_

_so dust off your highest hopes_

_all i know is pouring rain_

_and everything has changed_

The doorbell rings, and at first Atsumu suspects Osamu left without his house keys. When he yanks the door open, he’s not expecting Rintarou to be standing there, eyes sharp as ever and nose red from the cold.

“Oh,” Atsumu says, nearly tripping over the rug in his haste to pull the door back, “hey.”

“Hey.”

It’s the first time he’s seen Rintarou since Osamu relayed the breakup news to him, but he’d made it clear that they were on perfectly good terms. He didn’t know he’d invited him over to hang out the day after Christmas though, and Atsumu says as much.

“Osamu just ran out to grab somethin’ at the store, but he should be back soon,” Atsumu says, and it’s so _hard_ to keep eye contact with Rintarou for some godforsaken reason.

“Okay.”

“You can come in if you want, I guess,” Atsumu says with a shrug. He moves to the side to let Rintarou in, and it’s funny to think that they’re both mammoths compared to their classmates because right now Atsumu feels very, very small.

They stand in an awkward silence for a few moments as Rintarou pulls his hands out of his pockets, looking like he’s on the precipice of saying something.

There’s only so much silence Atsumu can handle, so he finally breaks it.

“I actually got ya somethin’,” he says. He steps closer. “For Christmas, I mean.”

Before Rintarou can get a word out, Atsumu has him in a headlock and is giving him a noogie. It’s stupid, but it’s comfortable.

“That’s for datin’ my brother, you sick freak!”

“Shut _up._ ”

And, as Rintarou jabs him in the side, Atsumu thinks maybe things still have a chance to turn around. He finally relents, and he can’t help the smile that blossoms on his face, toothy and genuine, when Rintarou gives him one final shove.

“Asshole,” Rintarou mutters behind him as Atsumu leads him to the kitchen.

Atsumu listens as a rain starts up outside, and he draws his hands into his hoodie sleeves.

“Ya came at the perfect time, huh?” Atsumu pauses in the doorway to the kitchen, turning to face Rintarou.

Rintarou’s faint freckles are warm under the aging hallway light, and his eyes say more than his mouth ever will.

“Yeah,” Rintarou says, “I really did, didn’t I.”

**Author's Note:**

> hahahha i'm SOOOO quirky and crazy. sorry for being unhinged, i dont know who i am and the ending is Not really how i wanted it to be but Here we Are


End file.
